Lessons in Leadership
by b7-kerravon
Summary: McKay thinks he should lead their Team on a routine mission, Sheppard gives him his chance. Little did they know how badly wrong things could go, and who could get hurt... FINISHED!
1. One: Plan for the Worst Case Scenario

Disclaimer: I do not own SGA nor do I make any profit from this story. It is for fan reading pleasure only.

**SPOILER ALERT**: 38 Minutes

Lessons in Leadership

By Kerr Avon

Lesson One: Plan for the Worst Case Scenario 

"You heard me! As a scientist, and obviously the most intelligent of the group, _I_ should be in charge." McKay defiantly crossed his arms over his chest to add emphasis to his latest declaration. "After all, I'm the reason we're here; if it weren't for my expertise, none of _you_ would even know what to look for." The superiority positively dripped from his voice.

Ford, holding back his annoyance by the barest of threads, snorted. "All Gate-teams are commanded by military personnel. It only makes sense." Despite the discussion, his eyes stayed glued to the cockpit monitors as he scrutinized the nuances of Major Sheppard's piloting style. Small details could make the difference between life and death if their "hotshot" pilot was incapacitated, and the Lieutenant was determined to pick up as many pointers as possible. Teyla and the two young enlisted men assigned to the mission were wisely staying out of the conversation and sat quietly on the side benches of the Jumper, listening.

The team's resident genius was exasperated. "And how exactly does that 'make sense'?" he demanded.

Ford opened his mouth to reply, but Sheppard decided it was time to intervene. "As team leader, you are responsible not only for your own life, but the lives and actions of those you command." His eyes were likewise fixed forward as he estimated their landing trajectory near the old ruins. "It would leave you precious little time to investigate and study any technology we find, which is, as you so graciously pointed out, the reason we're here." His hands flew deftly with a natural grace over the alien controls as he slowed their descent and scanned the area visually for hostiles. No matter what his instruments told him, he trusted his own eyes more.

"Oh come on; how hard can it be?" Rodney grunted scornfully. "We're all adults, and quite able to take care of ourselves. 'Team Leader' is just an excuse to boss everyone else around."

The corner of Sheppard's mouth quirked in a knowing smile as an idea began to form. "Right....that's why all line officers have to take years of training before they're given a Command." Rodney clearly didn't understand the difficulties of leadership and could use a little education. This planet appeared deserted and the mission as bread-and-butter routine as they came: check out the ruins of the Ancient city for any useful technology and better yet, find a charged Zero-Point Module. He'd never have a better or safer opportunity for instruction. "OK, then." He drawled contemplatively, "From here on out, for the rest of this mission, you're in charge."

McKay threw up his hands, "Finally _someone _understands my point."

Teyla and Ford turned surprised faces towards the Major, until he raised a hand and continued, "_Conditionally." _He ticked the points off on his fingers. "First, as we go along, I'll give you advice on the art of command, that I expect you to actually _listen_ to..."

"Oh, come now...is that really necessary?" McKay interrupted in a smug tone, subtly rolling his eyes.

"If you want to be mission leader today, that is condition number one. And second, if we _really_ encounter trouble, command automatically reverts to me. Agreed?"

With poor grace, McKay muttered, "Fine, whatever".

As Sheppard began to land their craft, McKay decided to exercise his new-found authority and jumped up to stand at his shoulder. "Why don't we set down over there?" he pointed imperiously to a spot much closer to the center of the ruins than the one Sheppard had chosen. "If we land there, we'll save the half a kilometer hike to reach the city. Not to mention the shorter distance we'll have to haul anything we find back."

"OK, lesson one: always plan for the worst case scenario." He pointed to the area Rodney had indicated. "Admittedly, that is a good landing site; it's flat, unobstructed, and near the area we want to investigate." McKay looked self-satisfied with the assessment.

"However," he continued, "It's too vulnerable. It is low-lying, with several taller piles of rubble nearby that could afford cover to potential enemy attackers. It is easily approachable from all sides, and would be difficult for two men to defend alone. Additionally, it has the _disadvantage_ of being near our objective, thus revealing both our goal and the locale of the landing party to any observer."

Sheppard then indicated the area where he was setting down the Jumper. "This spot is more remote; no one would know where we went unless they followed us. It is on high ground, allowing a wide view of the surrounding land so no one can sneak up unobserved. Finally, with the cliff at our back, two men can guard the ship and only have their front to worry about in the case of a hostile attack."

Rodney was suddenly apprehensive, "I thought this planet was deserted? There aren't any Wraith here?" His self-assuredness had seemingly vanished.

"That's the point." The Major spoke patiently as he made last minute adjustments of the landing controls. "We _think_ that the planet is deserted. That is not the same as _knowing_ that the planet is deserted. And, as one of our erstwhile trading partners was quick to point out, when a habitable planet is deserted, there is usually a good reason. Until we know what that is, we _plan for the worst case scenario._" On his last word, the craft gently touched down.

To the physicist's credit, he took the information in stride, nodding as he processed the information given. Sheppard was pleasantly surprised; he had expected some face-saving posturing. He also noted that Ford seemed to be listening with rapt attention as well; maybe there were side benefits. He rose along with Ford, McKay, and Teyla to gather their gear, leaving the two young non-coms to protect the ship.

------------------------------------

An hour later, McKay was feeling increasingly vindicated about his original landing site decision. While no hostiles had been sighted, the terrain had proven more difficult to traverse than they had expected, and the hike was grueling. "My feet _hurt_" he muttered under his breath as he sat on the edge of a fragmented wall, slung down his pack, and proceeded to take off his boots. It seemed that they just kept encountering more and more debris from fallen buildings and fractured pavement. _'Humph. You'd think the Ancients would have built better than this.' _He was busily massaging his right foot when someone cleared their throat. Glancing up, he saw the three other team members standing, packs in place, staring at him. Remembering that he was 'in charge', he nonchalantly waved his hand as he ordered, "Take five, everybody."

Sheppard smirked as he helped Teyla with her pack, then shrugged out of his own. "Thanks for remembering us, Team-Leader," he commented as he took a swig from his canteen. The whole group was becoming dehydrated as the day had turned hotter than predicted, and the walk really had been strenuous. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced first at Ford, then Teyla, to make certain that they were drinking plenty of water as well, then allowed his gaze to rest on Rodney again. "So, where to from here, boss?"

The scientist pulled out his scanner from one of his multitudinous pockets and began to slowly survey their surroundings. Pointing to his left, he replied, "I'm getting some low level power readings from that direction; I can't tell for sure because of the rubble, but it's a start." He looked around expectantly. "Shall we go?"

Sheppard put away his canteen and stood, brushing the dust off his trousers. "Sure, boss, whatever you say." He smiled without derision this time; except for this latest slip, McKay hadn't been doing too badly. He seemed to have shifted slightly outside his normal egocentric reality and was actually paying some attention to the rest of the team for a change. Hefting his pack, he noted everyone else shouldering theirs as well. '_Not too bad at all,'_ he thought._ 'We may have to try this again sometime.'_ It beat listening to the man whine, anyway.

They trekked through increasingly thick piles of brush and debris until they reached a nearly-intact three-story structure. As McKay reached for the door, he was irritated to discover his hand's progress halted a mere inches from the handle by the Major's. His gaze flew from the hand to Sheppard's face. "What?!"

"Have you considered the possibility of booby-traps?" Sheppard stared at him unblinkingly.

"Worst case scenario, again?" McKay withdrew his hand quickly.

Sheppard tilted his head and grinned at McKay's quick grasp of his 'first rule'. "Let's check it out, shall we?"

A careful examination of the door revealed no untoward surprises, and it was soon deemed safe enough to open. The four eased slowly into the dark entrance, allowing their eyes to adjust to the decreased light level. A low rumble from what they assumed was long-unused machinery shook the floor, and dust trickled down on them from above. After a few seconds the shuddering stopped, but the dust took longer to settle. It could be seen in the air as the ambient lighting fixtures seemed to recognize the presence of living creatures and, like in Atlantis, began turning on.

The interior was magnificent. The ceilings were at least 12 feet above floor level, and reflected the glow emitted from the light panels to increase the illumination (without increasing the energy output). The main room had the same arching architecture that they had become accustomed to in their new home, but the floorspace was filled with row upon row of waist-high lab tables, mostly covered with mechanical components or electronic debris. McKay was in Nirvana. All thoughts of 'being boss' flew out of his head as he studied the room.

"This has _got_ to be a research lab!" he crowed in delight. "Just look at all the equipment." He fingered a nearby device speculatively. The whole group looked up as the floor shook briefly again.

Sheppard shot him a wry grin. "Careful; I think it heard you."

"Buildings don't have ears," McKay replied disdainfully. He turned his attention to deciphering the function of one of the more complex objects immediately at hand, and was quickly lost.

His fascinated contemplation was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat. Glancing up in irritation, he snapped, "What now?"

The Major was amused. "What are your orders for _us_, Team-leader?" The three non-scientists were still standing in the center of the room.

Rodney was temporarily nonplussed. _'Oh, right. Didn't Ford say something about this?' _"Uh...why don't you...umm...go check the place out?" He waved dismissively toward the door at the far end of the main hall.

Sheppard looked askance. "All of us, or do you want someone to stay here and watch your back while you examine your doohickeys?"

McKay glanced down at the instrument in his hands, then irritatedly back at Sheppard. _'Worst case scenario again, huh? Still, I'd hate to have a Wraith sneak up on me!'_ His natural arrogance reasserted itself as he issued orders. "Alright, Teyla, you'll stay here to guard; Ford, you go with Major Sheppard to scout out the rest of the installation."

John nodded, then jerked his head at the Lieutenant. "Come on, Ford. Let's see what else is here." As they turned to leave, Sheppard creased his brow, then returned to where Rodney had gone back to his study. "McKay, why don't you hand me that detector; I'll scan the building for power sources as we go. Who knows, maybe we'll find a ZPM."

McKay, still engrossed, nodded his head absently and fished the device out of his pocket, handing it over without comment. The Major grinned at his single-mindedness, then shook his head as he returned to where Aiden was waiting. Teyla watched the two men depart, then spent a few minutes observing their self-proclaimed genius tinker and mutter to himself. Bored, she decided to make sure the hall was secure, and began to do her own exploration. She carefully circumnavigated the main chamber, taking in the details of her surroundings. The astrophysicist was truly in a world of his own; she was glad Sheppard cautioned him post a guard. With her people, Rodney's type would soon dead if not looked after. She noticed the sporadic rubble on the floor, and wondered where it had come from. Squatting down, she picked up a piece of the rough stone and examined it. Smooth on one side, but rough and almost fibrous on the other, it was clearly artificial. Running her hand along the smoother surface, she was reminded of the walls back on base. On instinct, she stood and inspected the nearby casement. Sure enough, the material was identical. Staring closely at the surface, she discovered a number of fine lines that ran together, forming larger and larger crevasses, until she found the area where the chunk had fallen away. '_Was this what happened as the material aged?'_

"Doctor McKay..." she began.

"Hmmmm...?" He was still engrossed in his study.

"Why do the walls have lines?"

"Hmmmm...?" He was clearly not listening.

"Lines...cracks...where pieces have fallen to the floor." Teyla tried to clarify her question.

Rodney's head came up, and his eyes fixed intently on her face. "What do you mean by 'cracks'?" A familiar feeling of dread washed over him. "Show me!"

Sheppard and Ford had found a number of similar but smaller rooms behind the main hall that appeared to be storerooms. Each would start to glow as they entered, revealing lines of shelves fastened to the wall with firmly-strapped packing crates securely holding everything in place. Sheppard's radio crackled to life; "Major, can you hear me?" McKay's obviously concerned voice floated up to them.

"Maybe he's found something useful." Sheppard was hopeful. They had seen quite a bit of miscellaneous equipment, but he couldn't tell a weapon from a toaster. Definitely no ZPMs, charged or not. He keyed his mike, "Yeah, what've you got?"

"Look at a wall; what do you see?"

John stared at his radio in confusion, then shrugged his shoulders and did as the scientist asked. "Lots of storage shelves."

"No, no, no. Look at the actual _wall_!" frustration was evident in Rodney's tone.

Sheppard got within a few inches of the surface, then ran his fingertips over it. His own eyes widened as he replied, "It seems to be covered with cracks, with some chinks missing here and there." He examined the areas where the shelves were attached; many of the fasteners were either missing or loose. Finding an even more decrepit section, he observed, "There even seem to be several fairly large breaks in some segments, and several of the shelves have come loose from their tie-downs."

McKay held his radio to his chest as his eyes flew back and forth; he was thinking furiously. He didn't speak until Sheppard's voice interrupted him; "McKay, why do I have a bad feeling about this?"


	2. Two: Never Let Them See You Sweat

Lesson Two: Never Let Them See You Sweat 

"Do you remember what you said about there being a _reason_ that uninhabited worlds were uninhabited in the Pegasus galaxy? I think I've figured it out for this planet."

When nothing more was immediately forthcoming, Sheppard prompted him, "And that would be...?"

"I believe the planet is seismically unstable. How frequent and how severe the earthquakes are, would require investigation that we don't have time for. However, I think it would be prudent for us to stay together. This room has a number of sturdy tables for shelter, if need be."

Sheppard mentally agreed, but he replied, "Hey, you're the boss. We're on our way back." Holstering the walkie-talkie, he turned to Lt. Ford. "You heard the man, Ford. If this place tries to shake itself apart, we'd be best off as a single group, and the main hall _is_ likely to be safest." With a slightly nervous glance at the towering storage bins, he turned to depart.

Just as the pair headed toward the door, an ominous rumbling began in the floor beneath their feet. Sheppard rolled his eyes in disbelief. "You've _got_ to be kidding me," he muttered _sotto voce_. Mother Nature was unwilling to let them get away that easily.

Aiden, a native Southern Californian, shouted, "The doorframe! It's safest!" The men sprinted as small chunks of ceiling began to spatter on the ground.

Ford figured they'd made it as he reached the threshold, then a retaining strap on a nearby crate split, catapulting it into the Major who was trailing just behind. There was a sickening _crunch_ as it impacted his skull, and he dropped unmoving to the floor. Ford instinctively darted out from cover and managed to wrestle his commander's unconscious body into the doorframe and relative safety before any more debris could strike him. As the shaking intensified, the whole shelving unit came loose and crashed down on the spot where the Major had lain just moments before.

"That was close," was all the Lieutenant could say as he cradled Sheppard's head to his chest. The older man began to moan slightly and wince as the quake subsided, a good sign as far as Aiden was concerned.

Teyla extricated herself from beneath the heavy table where McKay had unceremoniously pulled her when the disturbance began. "What was that?" she asked. "I have never before felt the ground shake beneath me. Was it caused by some device?"

McKay pulled himself out from under the table. "No, certain areas of planets just do that. They're called 'earthquakes'." He considered going into more detail, but decided that tectonic plate theory was a little extraneous at the moment, and probably beyond her anyway. He glanced nervously towards the door where their friends had yet to appear. "Problem is, there are often aftershocks, and sometimes even worse temblors." He pursed his lips impatiently, then decisively grabbing his radio, he signaled Sheppard. "Major, where are you? Can you hear me?"

Static answered at first, but, after a seeming eternity, Ford's voice came back. "We're still in the storeroom. A crate knocked out the Major. He's groggy, but I think he's coming around. He's not very coherent, though." His words were accented by the sounds of moaning in the background.

"Can you get over here, or out of the building?" McKay's anxiety was a palpable thing, but had not yet reached his characteristic full-blown panic.

"Sir, it'd be best if you and Teyla stayed in the main room in case of more quakes. I can get the Major back; it's just going to take some time. Otherwise, we might miss each other in this labyrinth."

The scientist clearly wasn't happy about the situation, but tightened his lips in acknowledgement that the Lieutenant was right. "OK, but get back as quick as you can, and call if you get into trouble." He glanced up haplessly at Teyla and shrugged.

Ford clipped his radio, then bent to put an arm around his injured comrade and hoist him to his feet. The Major was disoriented and confused, and Aiden found that he had to support most of his weight. At least the man's arms and legs were moving, albeit sluggishly, so a spinal cord injury was less likely. Still, Ford wouldn't be happy until they could get him home and to Dr. Beckett. Once they were outside in the open, they'd be able to radio the two guards at the ship and have them fly over and do a dust-off. There was no way Sheppard could walk back that distance under his own power, even with his help.

"Come on, Major," he muttered encouragingly. "One foot in front of the other....that's right...left.....now right...left...keep it up...." So saying, they began the interminable trek back to the main hall, skirting the new piles of wreckage as they went.

Rodney had just about decided to go after them, impatience and apprehension overruling common sense, when the first aftershock hit. While not as severe, he and Teyla wound up beneath their sturdy lab tables again riding it out. Several heavy blocks of ceiling crashed down onto the table and the area they had occupied, much to Rodney's dismay. His eyes widened at the size of the hole that must now exist in the ceiling over their heads. Keying the mike, he demanded, "Ford! Where are you! Are you two all right? Ford, answer me!"

Ford had his own problems. The soldiers had been within a few feet of the back door to the main hall when the aftershock had occurred. He managed to muscle the major into a fairly protected alcove seconds before the roof caved in entirely. By the time the second bout of shaking was diminishing, he could scarcely breathe for all the dust in the air. The sound of violent coughing led him to Sheppard, sitting slumped and hacking against the wall. Clamping a handkerchief over his own face as a filter, he found a second one and tied it to Sheppard's face. When the jolting finally stopped, the commander cracked open his left eye and stared up at his lieutenant. "Ford, what's going on?" he asked suspiciously. _'I hate when this happens,'_ he thought as his hand went to the back of his head and tenderly touched the rising knot there. "What happened? Why is my head killing me?" He was also aware of the dust filling his mouth, but didn't feel up to unstrapping his canteen. "Got any water?"

Just then the radio crackled to life, relaying Rodney's now-panicked voice. Ford fished it out and keyed the mike as he uncapped his own canteen and held it to Sheppard's parched lips. "We're OK, but the roof caved in at the entrance to the main hall, right in front of us. On the plus side, the Major is more alert. I need to go check out the passageway to find a way out. I'll call you back." With that, he handed the radio to John and eased into the corridor.

The sight in front of him was not a pleasant one. The rubble from the floor above completely obscured the door to the next room, their objective. It would take too long to clear it alone; maybe Rodney and Teyla could help from their side. Experimentally, he removed a random chunk from the mound. When this didn't result in any instability, he returned to Major Sheppard who was now sitting upright under his own power and wiping some of the dirt from his face. Ford retrieved the radio and signaled the others.

"OK, we're just a few feet beyond your back door, but the passage is completely blocked. If I remember right, the door opens inward into the room. Could you see if you can help me shift enough rock to get back in?"

Rodney stared towards the door as he replied, "We'll check it out and get back to you." Teyla jogged over to it and was pleased to find that it did indeed open inwards. McKay, realizing the possible instability a moment too late, managed to call, "Watch out!" just as she turned the handle.

Quite a few hunks of wreckage tumbled into the room as the door swung wide, but Rodney's warning caused her to jump backwards in time to avoid them. Upon closer examination, she noted that a small opening had appeared at the apex of the pile of rubble, which seemed to communicate to the passage beyond. Experimentally she scrambled up and dislodged some looser pieces. Her efforts were rewarded with a cascade of several large chunks, enlarging the gap quite a bit. "Lieutenant Ford, can you hear me?" she called through the hole.

"Yes! I see the gap you've started; I'll work on the same spot from this side." Ford's hands were suddenly seen scrabbling at the loose bits at the top of the cave-in. It took the three less than 15 minutes to clear a hole large enough for a man's body to pass through, and the lieutenant could be seen grinning beyond it.

"Give me a minute and I'll get the Major up here."

Ford carefully climbed back to where he had left his commanding officer. He had to admit that Sheppard appeared decidedly unwell. Eyes closed and blackened, the major's head rested against the wall, his dark sweat-and-blood-soaked hair accentuating the too-pale aspect of his face. Ford took a deep breath, then slipped a hand under his arm in support. "Come on, sir. Time to get going."

"I can make it myself," came the muttered reply.

'_In a pig's eye!'_ thought the lieutenant, although he was too smart to voice his concerns.

"Sure you can, but Dr. Beckett will kill me if anything else happens to you."

Sheppard cocked open one eye and stared up at the younger soldier. "You're humoring me, aren't you?" he asked suspiciously.

Ford gave a self-deprecating grin. "Is it that obvious?"

Sheppard chose not to comment. "Come on, then. Let's get out of here."

By the time they managed to get to the opening that had been created, Ford found that he was again practically carrying the man.

McKay and Teyla heard some scrabbling noises, a couple of grunts, and Sheppard's wan face slowly became visible in the crawlway. Dragging himself forward on his belly by his elbows in classic low-crawl position, the Major couldn't quite hide his relief when Teyla grabbed one arm, McKay grabbed the other, and they forcibly hauled him the rest of the way into the room. Ford followed so quickly that he was through and with them before they had even managed to settle John onto the floor.

Rodney didn't care for the way Sheppard had immediately closed his eyes and slumped against the table leg in exhaustion. Medicine had always seemed more of a pseudoscience than a real discipline to the astrophysicist, but he found himself fervently wishing Beckett were here. The Major was pallid, his face covered in a cold sweat, bruises and darkened blood and he was breathing in small, shallow pants. McKay grasped an unresisting wrist to take his pulse; being an inveterate hypochondriac, he had done as much to himself a thousand times. '_Pulse 120 and thready, respiration 26 and shallow...' _Not good.

"How's he doing?" Ford hovered over Rodney's shoulder, staring on in concern.

Not wanting to alarm Sheppard, McKay swallowed his own anxiety before answering. "He should be fine, but we ought to get him back to Atlantis." _'Before he goes completely into shock and dies!,'_ he added in silent terror to himself.

"I'll go outside and contact the Jumper. They should be able to set down in the square right in front."

"You do that." A thought occurred to him, "And take Teyla with you...just in case."

As the two young people hurried off, Sheppard cracked open an eye. "You learn fast, McKay. I could hardly tell that you're terrified." His hand rolled in the air as he tried to come up with the appropriate phrasing. "You lacked that...high-pitched babbling you usually have when you're worried."

Rodney's first reaction was indignation, but he recognized the truth when he heard it and became chagrined instead. "Well, I don't think it would help right now."

Sheppard nodded and closed his eyes, letting his head ease back to rest against the table again. "Good. Rule Number Two: Never let 'em see you sweat. It only undermines your credibility, and could result in someone questioning your orders at a critical moment."

McKay soaked a handkerchief with his canteen, then placed it on Sheppard's forehead. "This is a lot tougher than I thought." He gently mopped at some of the dried blood. "How do you do it? For example, in that shuttle; a huge life-sucking two-foot-long alien bug stuck to your carotid while you're facing explosive decompression in under thirty minutes, and you're completely unruffled."

John's mouth quirked into a slight smile while his eyes stayed closed. "I may have _seemed_ composed, but let me tell you, I was screaming inside. The key is not to let them _see_ your fear. That way, when you do think of something, you'll have the immediate support of your men, no matter how crazy it sounds."

"Like the defibrillator." McKay became grim. He had been shocked when he realized that Sheppard's so-called 'plan' involved _stopping the major's heart_. But, he admitted to himself, the calm way Sheppard had said, 'That's the _idea_,' had carried a lot of weight in the Jumper, and had been instrumental in galvanizing Ford into action. Maybe he had a point. Still, fear was instinctive, and had served him well in the past.

"Hello? You still with me McKay?"

Rodney shook himself back into this reality to find the Major staring at him. He flashed the injured man a weak smile as he re-dampened the cloth, then offered him the canteen as well. "Sorry. Just remembering a particularly nasty hour in my life that I'd sooner forget." He dabbed Sheppard's forehead as the man drank thirstily. "After all that, with everyone else safe due to my brilliant insight and implementation, it still looked for a while like we had lost you. No matter how astounding my solution was, it just wasn't a success in my mind if we didn't _all_ survive." He thought for a moment, then ventured, "Just for a moment, right after Dr. Weir had congratulated me on a 'good job', but Beckett was still trying to convince _your_ heart to beat, I wished it was me lying there instead of you. How strange is that?"

Without moving his aching head, Sheppard raised three fingers on his right hand. "Rule number three: your men come first. That means that their needs, desires, and _lives_ are more important than your own. The corollary is that _you_, the team leader, are the most expendable member of the group." His eyebrows creased in concentration. "Speaking of which; shouldn't Teyla and Ford be back by now?"

McKay's eyes widened. "Yes, you're right. Will you be..." his voice cut off mid-sentence.

The Major opened his eyes at the sudden silence. "McKay?" Any further questions stilled on his lips as he saw the large knife pressed firmly to the scientist's throat as several large hands roughly grabbed them both by the arms and hauled them to their feet. His field of vision was suddenly swamped in gray, and he knew no more.

As McKay helplessly watched, the blood drained from Sheppard's face, eyes rolling backwards as he passed out, becoming a dead weight in the hands of his captors. The scientist's instinctive surge forward was halted by the bite of the blade pressing more firmly against his throat, followed by Teyla's hissed, "No, Doctor! You are of no use to him dead." Rodney gulped and forcibly pulled his eyes away from the two half-clothed, burley savages holding his unconscious colleague, and inspected the other two captured members of 'his' team.

"Are you two all right?" he managed to get out before being jerked backwards. The knife-edge nicked his skin, and he felt a small trickle of blood head towards his collar.

"No words!" exclaimed the brute holding him, twisting his arms behind his back for emphasis.

Ford and Teyla both nodded imperceptibly in reply, eyes fixed on the barbarian with the weapon at McKay's throat. The next thing they knew, the group was being bustled outside, where their arms were bound tightly behind their backs. Sheppard was tossed to the ground like a sack of laundry, then bound as well, albeit in a supine position, face down in the dirt. McKay was getting worried about his continued lack of movement, but found the steady rise and fall of his chest somewhat reassuring. He also wondered if the other two had managed to signal the ship before they were set upon. He knew better than to even try to mouth the question, so, catching Ford's attention as the majority of their captors went off in search of other potential prisoners, he jerked his head in the direction of the ship with the unspoken question in his eyes. Ford managed to look disgusted and give one negative shake of his head without being noticed.

No rescue would be immediately forthcoming, then. He was suddenly quite grateful for the extended walk that Sheppard's 'worst case scenario' had entailed, for it meant that the ship would not be easily discovered by the natives, and therefore the two men left behind would stand a fair chance of defending their only means of escape. When the team failed to make their scheduled radio check-in, the two young guards would hopefully come looking, with suspicions aroused. Still, it would be best if they could escape and make it back before then.

To distract himself, he examined their abductors; perhaps they had weaknesses that could be exploited. A glance at Ford revealed that he was doing the same thing.

The natives were reminiscent of the American Indian; tall, dark-skinned, and muscular from hours of outdoor activity. Clothed in animal hides and leather, their culture was clearly not developed to the point of manufactured clothing. From what he recalled from the little study he had done in yet another pseudoscience, sociology, people at this stage of development tended to indulge in 'magical thinking' as a way to explain their universe. '_Figures_', the scientist's eyes narrowed thoughtfully; maybe that could be used to their advantage.

As if to confirm his observations, another aftershock hit. '_At least this time we're outside,' _he thought as the tremors knocked him to the ground. The locals began crying out in dismay and running back to the central square where Knife-boy still stood, his face set in granite. When the shaking finally subsided, he strode angrily to where their captives were picking themselves up as best they could without the use of their arms. Grabbing McKay with both hands by the collar, he hoisted him up until they were nose-to-nose.

"You have angered the Earth Goddess by your sacrilege!" The man was quite worked up. "How many more of you are there?"

McKay stammered incoherently, then forcibly calmed as his mind flitted back to 'Rule #2'. "No-one....nobody else." He pulled his arrogance back around himself like a shield. Drawing his shoulders back, he somehow managed to stare down his nose at the person manhandling him. "How dare you treat us this way when we were sent _by_ the Goddess?"

A disturbed murmur emanated from the gathered natives as their leader stared at McKay suspiciously. The somewhat pudgy astrophysicist steeled himself not to blink or look away; finally Knife-boy set him back on his feet and glared at one of his companions. "Bring them!" he spat, stalking off.

Ford, McKay, and Teyla found themselves being unceremoniously jostled and prodded further into the ruins of the city at a slow trot, while Sheppard was again slung over one of the natives' shoulders and carried. Eventually the group reached an encampment within the ruins of what must have been the Ancient equivalent of an apartment building. They were tossed into a relatively-intact room, and the door shut firmly behind them. McKay didn't have to look outside to know that a guard had been posted.

Teyla was on her knees next to John's unmoving body. McKay looked on, despair welling up inside him. He hated not knowing what to do! Just like watching Beckett shocking Sheppard's heart back to life while he could do nothing but pace...Ford's voice at his shoulder startled him back to the present situation.

"Nice job, doc." The lieutenant inadvertently echoed Weir's words.

Repeating himself, McKay replied, "We'll see."


	3. Three: Your Men Come First

Lesson Three: Your Men Come First 

"Hey, we're still alive. I was pretty sure we were dead after that last quake." McKay thought gloomily _'we're probably dead anyway_', but was surprised to hear the latent respect now in Aiden's tone. "If we turn back-to-back, we might be able to work these ropes loose."

McKay nodded. At least it was something to _do_. After a few minutes of fumbling, the lieutenant hissed, "Got it! Boy Scouts, these guys are _not_." Rodney found the ropes binding his arms suddenly falling free, and he sighed in relief as he brought his arms around to the front.

"Now you." His first urge had been to spend the next ten minutes massaging his shoulders and complaining about the returning circulation, but self-preservation and those stupid rules kept popping up. Rule #3 applied now, and he quickly managed to untie Ford and Teyla before turning to take care of Sheppard.

"They are true savages," spat Teyla, her first words for over two hours. "At least they left us our supplies." She broke out her canteen and began dabbing the Major's forehead.

"Probably figured we couldn't get at them." Ford commented, matter-of-fact. "How is he?"

As if he had heard the question, Sheppard began to moan and move slightly. Ford knelt next to Teyla, anxiously willing their friend to wake up. McKay went to the window to look at the situation outside. After a seeming eternity, Sheppard's eyes cracked open. He quickly shaded them with a hand, as even the filtered light of the room seemed to hurt his eyes. Staring at the distressed faces hovering over him, he addressed the lieutenant.

"Ford? What's going on?"

"We were captured by the locals, and are being held prisoner. You've been out of it for a while." He kept his voice low to keep from alerting their guards and in deference to the Major's headache.

"McKay?" Sheppard was trying valiantly to catch up.

He turned back to look at the commander; "They attribute the earthquakes to the anger of one of their gods, and currently assume that _we_ are the agents responsible. It could be that the research building is regarded as taboo...I'm not certain yet."

John was confused. "Usually that means they kill us to appease the god. Why aren't we dead?"

Ford grinned as he looked towards McKay. "The doctor put on his best 'I know everything and you're an idiot' expression and managed to throw some doubt on that assumption."

Sheppard looked at the half-embarrassed and half-self-satisfied scientist appraisingly and grinned, "Way to go." Glancing around at the group, he added, "Could someone help me sit up?"

A few minutes of awkward maneuvering, Sheppard found himself sitting against the wall opposite the door, feeling better than he had since the first quake had hit. Fishing around in his pockets, Ford produced a couple of protein bars that the group shared; McKay didn't even feel like pleading hypoglycemia in order to get a larger portion. The group noted the astrophysicist's uncharacteristic silence. Sheppard and Ford exchanged significant looks, then the Major slid over next to their "genius".

"Hey, Teyla, why don't we check out the perimeter?" Ford knew it was a flimsy excuse, but it would give McKay a chance to talk somewhat more privately. The two younger team members wandered over to the tiny window, leaving the older pair to their discussion.

Sheppard's head ached abominably, his stomach was queasy; all-in-all, he still felt too ill to beat around the bush. "What's up, McKay?" he asked bluntly, but gently.

Rodney roused slightly, "Nothing." He spoke a little too quickly, too brightly.

Sheppard rolled his eyes, then carefully placed a hand on the scientist's shoulder. "Come on. You haven't complained once about aching muscles, low blood sugar, or our impending doom." He spread his hands. "Tell me the truth; what's up?"

McKay sighed and visibly deflated. "Things are really messed up. I had no idea that this job was so difficult. I'm just not sure what to do."

Sheppard smiled. "Not according to Ford."

"At this point I don't even want to _know_ any more of your 'rules'. I can't even manage the three." McKay stated despairingly.

Still, he'd managed pretty well up to this point; Sheppard decided to humor him a bit. "Compared to your normal 'doom and gloom' 'we're all going to die' spiels, I think you've made nice progress."

"Listen, I think we _ARE_ all going to die! The situation is desperate and I don't see a clear path out of it. By the time the guards we left at the Jumper realize we're not coming back, we won't _BE_ coming back."

"Well," here he winced as he tried to rise to his feet, "I'd say that the current situation definitely falls under the 'if we encounter trouble' clause of our original arrangement. I'll take it from here." The major wobbled slightly as he straightened, and was steadied by a firm hand on his elbow. Glancing down, he saw that the hand was Rodney's, and met his eyes with a small smile. "Thanks."

"You sure you're up to this?" McKay wanted nothing more than to abdicate the responsibility of leadership, but he was truly unsure that Sheppard was capable of handling it either. He stood up quickly and looked the Major over critically. _'Maybe it's just self-preservation, or maybe I'm learning that 'Your men come first' rule a little too well...'_

Major Sheppard was an old pro at that one, though. He could tell how uncomfortable Rodney was with the role of 'leader'; time to reassert control. Pulling out his 'macho' mask, he shot McKay his patented 'all's right with the world, so let me at it' grin and slapped him on the back. "Of course I am. It'll take more than some old crate to get though this skull." He tapped his temple meaningfully. "Solid rock; been told it a hundred times."

Ford and Teyla came back when they noticed the pair standing. "Nice to see you up, sir," commented Ford noncommittally.

"How do you feel?" Teyla wasn't as easily fooled by the Major's bravado; she had dealt with too many injured men in her short life to be taken in by their pretenses.

Sheppard knew he couldn't delude her as easily as he could the rest of the team, but he certainly wasn't going to admit that he felt like death warmed over. He settled for a politic version of the truth. "I'll be all right."

The tough young woman's eyes narrowed consideringly; he looked far from 'all right' to her. Still, if that is what he wanted them to believe, he must have a reason for it...She nodded her acceptance of his statement and turned to McKay. "And you, Doctor? How is your throat?"

Rodney's hand flew to his neck as his eyes widened; he had forgotten completely about the laceration! To his relief, he found the blood had already dried and it was far more minor than he had originally thought. He answered in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'll survive...this."

Sheppard shot Ford a 'What do you know about that?' look; Rodney _never_ dismissed an injury. The slightest scratch was reason enough to head to Dr. Beckett demanding antibiotics and a tetanus booster. Any commentary they might have made was cut off by the door opening.

Their friend Knife-boy entered first, followed by two of his goons from earlier. The team clustered protectively about their concussed commander, even as he tried to push away from the wall without revealing the need for support. Once ascertaining that the prisoners weren't going to attack them, the man leading the hunting party signaled the guards at the door, who bowed obeisance to the lordly woman who swept in. Her haughty gaze took in the group, finally settling on Major Sheppard. "Who speaks for you?" Her tones were regal, and demanded an answer.

Sheppard raised the index finger of his right hand. "Uh, that would be me," he volunteered.

Rodney almost spoke up, but bit his tongue. No use borrowing trouble, as his mother used to say.

The woman was clearly of some importance. Dressed in finely decorated hides, her cloak was almost completely covered with feathers of every hue, as was her headdress. If there was anyone they needed to convince of their innocence, it was this Matriarch.

"Morthon is unable to tell me your intentions. When our Goddess is angry, she shakes the ground. However, Morthon thinks that you might be _from_ the Goddess, sent to help us still the earth. I wish to know which it is."

"That's a little complicated." Sheppard combed his fingers through his hair and winced as he encountered a lump.

"Uncomplicate it," she replied in a no-nonsense voice.

Sheppard pasted on his most charming grin. "Well, it's neither. We're explorers from another world who just happened to be in the ruined city when the earthquakes began. We are not acquainted with your goddess, for good or evil. We have neither angered her, nor brought messages from her."

She regarded them appraisingly. Coming to a decision, she turned to Morthon. "Bring them; we will have trial by Ju-na-ree."

Morthon seemed unhappy that they weren't summarily executed for their prevarication, but bowed his head in obedience. "Yes, Priestess," he replied as she swept out of the room. When she was gone, he raised his eyes, then gestured to his men. Within moments the whole group was again being forcibly marched, this time down a corridor deeper into the building.

After several twists and turns, the four explorers found themselves unceremoniously shoved into yet another converted room. This one seemed more ceremonial than the one that they had been imprisoned in earlier; the walls were lined with furs, with several of the softest scattered on the floor. The Priestess sat enthroned on a raised dais, flanked by two guards on each side, each of whom carried a rather business-like spear. Strong hands on the travelers' shoulders encouraged them to kneel, thankfully on some of the softer furs.

Ford shot a quick glance at Sheppard; clearly he had not recovered from his concussion. The normally-graceful pilot had stumbled several times in their trek from their cell, and now looked almost as pale as he had when they were initially captured. The Lieutenant's attention was drawn back to the priestess as she began speaking, however.

"From ages past, the question has been Truth. 'Did the warrior run from battle?', 'Did the son steal his father's goods?', 'Are the strangers lying?'" She fixed them with a pointed glare. "Then the Goddess gave us Ju-na-ree." She held up a goblet filled with a burgundy liquid, and stood slowly. "This is the Elixir of Truth. He who partakes of it cannot lie, and moreover is compelled to tell all there is to tell. But be warned; there may be consequences."

Sheppard swayed slightly, eyes glazed. McKay, unsure as to whether or not the Major had actually _heard_ the spiel, cleared his throat and asked hesitantly, "What...what sort of consequences are we talking about here?"

The Priestess nodded condescendingly. "The effects last from a few hours to a few days. Side effects include nausea in many, vomiting in a few, and rarely, even death. However, this is the only true way to determine that you have nothing to do with the ground shaking. If the trial is not undertaken, none of you shall leave this chamber alive."

The astrophysicist licked suddenly-dry lips. "Do we all drink the Elixir?"

She smiled at his nervousness. "No, only your leader needs to take the risk. Your lives depend upon his honesty." She stared pointedly at Major Sheppard, who appeared to be on the verge of collapse. She frowned, noting his condition.

"I'll take it in his place." Rodney couldn't believe he'd said that. Clearly neither could Teyla or Ford, who stared at him open-mouthed. Sheppard looked like he was ready to keel over at any moment; McKay's thoughts ran frantically _'If he dies they'll execute all of us anyway, I am the logical choice and our best hope of survival_. McKay figured he had better odds with the Elixir.

"That is not your place. However, as he is clearly unwell..." she began.

Sheppard seemed to rouse himself at that. "No!" He fixed Rodney with a meaningful stare. "It's my job; remember the corollary to rule number three."

McKay gulped. He remembered all right. '_'The leader is the most expendable member of the team.' But no one else in the expedition had his innate connection with the Ancient technology. That was the whole reason Weir brought him in the first place! _However, before he could voice a protest, Sheppard had taken the goblet from the Priestess and downed the contents.


	4. Four: Accept Responsibility for Your Act...

Lesson Four: Always Accept Responsibility for Your Actions 

Sheppard blinked foggily at the Priestess as the serum took effect, then sat back heavily on his heels. Grasping his chin, she tilted his face upwards and stared into his eyes. Apparently satisfied with what she saw there, she dropped her hand and stood upright.

Imperiously, she began the questioning. "Who are you?"

Sheppard answered immediately. "Major John Sheppard."

"Where are you from?"

"The United States of America"

While that obviously meant nothing to the inquisitor, she didn't seem to care. "Why are you here?"

"Because we were captured by your men."

She smiled wryly at that; while not lying, it had neatly avoided her question. "Why were you in the building where we found you?"

"We were looking for technology to either help us against the Wraith or to help us get home."

She nodded in sympathy; these were goals she could understand. The Wraith were the enemies of all living creatures, and who wouldn't want to return to their home, wherever this 'United States' might be? Now for the important questions, though.

"Have you, to your knowledge, angered our Goddess?"

"No."

Succinct and to the point. "Have you been sent by our Goddess?"

"No."

Again, no apparent need for elaboration. Next, the vital query. "Did you cause the ground to shake?'

"Absolutely not." His gaze was steady as he awaited her next question. The relief of tension in the chamber was a physical sensation.

The native Priestess smiled gently and nodded to her men. "That is all we needed to know. Go in peace. My guards will show you the way out."

As she turned to go, McKay called out, "Excuse me, ma'am?"

She turned back, eyebrow arched at his temerity. "Yes?"

"Uh...when should we expect side effects, if there are going to be any?"

She looked at Sheppard sadly. "Probably within the hour."

Sheppard interjected; "We are looking for allies against the Wraith. We'd like to be able to count your people among those."

The Priestess realizing the truth serum was still quite active replied;" I think we'd like that, we will talk later when you are not at so much a disadvantage." Conversation over, she swept out of the room.

"We'd better get out of here, then," muttered Ford. Taking one elbow of their somewhat bemused commander, he gestured McKay to take the other, and the two of them muscled Sheppard out of the room.

True to her word, the Priestess's guards showed them through the maze of corridors until they suddenly found themselves blinking in the sunlight of late afternoon. Keying his radio, Ford called the Jumper.

"Jumper One here. Where have you guys been?!" The young man's relief was palpable.

"Tell you later; right now we have a medical emergency. Can you pick up our transponder signal?" He hit the locator button on the side of the radio; the 'Send' light began blinking on and off at regular intervals.

"Got it, sir! Be there in ten minutes."

"Out here." Ford turned back to where Sheppard was swaying on his feet. "How do you feel?" he asked, grasping the Major's shoulder gently.

Despite his desire to keep them from worrying, the Elixir forced the truth from his lips. "Like hell. My head is pounding, my muscles ache, and my stomach is turning somersaults. And you?"

Ford chuckled. "Oh, I'm all right. Let's sit you down while we wait for the Jumper."

An hour later the ship was emerging through the Stargate into the Atlantis Jumper Bay, to be met by an anxious Weir and the Medical team. Halfway home, Sheppard had begun vomiting, and soon afterwards lost consciousness. Having learned the details of the injury, followed by a potential poisoning, it was a grim Scotsman who finally boarded the craft as the hatch opened.

"Pulse 136, respiratory rate 32, BP 95 over 40." Dr. Beckett was not a happy man. "Alright; he needs fluids, and he needs them now. Simpson, get that IV started, run it wide open, then let's move him to the medical unit. Jones, have a dopamine drip ready when we get there, just in case he temporarily needs pressors."

Rodney paced as Beckett worked and the rest of the team looked on. "Got the line; Ringers running," declared the medtech.

"Let's move!"

A dicey 12 hours, and an exhausted Dr. Beckett finally made his way out to the anxious group waiting for word on the Major. Slumping into a chair outside the treatment area, he ran his fingers through matted hair and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. "He was badly dehydrated, and it took hours to settle the dry heaves, but there is no neurologic deficit and he's finally stable and resting comfortably. He should be fine in a few days."

Weir spoke for them all when she murmured, "Thank God."

"Thank his ox-like constitution," muttered the doctor under his breath. He stood again, "I'm going to check on him one last time, then catch a quick catnap. I'd suggest that you all get some sleep as well; you've had a hard day."

"You can say that again," grumbled McKay. "I'm completely wrung out." Ford and Teyla just exchanged a smile and stood as well.

"Thank you, Doctor Beckett." Elizabeth Weir smiled her gratitude, then headed for the control room.

'_I swear that woman doesn't sleep.'_ Beckett thought enviously.

"Now you're off duty until I say otherwise." Beckett admonished his recalcitrant patient. "I mean it. I hear about you even _thinking_ about work before I've cleared you, and you'll spend the rest of your recuperation in this bed. Understand?"

John Sheppard sat on the edge of the cot, feeling for all the world like a truant child. Unfortunately, the alien truth serum was still circulating through his bloodstream, so he was forced to answer, "Yes, I understand." Unfortunately, he was also compelled to add, "But if I think I can get away with it, I might do a little paperwork."

Beckett laughed. "Well, you won't be doin' more than that for a while; at least not until you can fib jus' a wee bit." He became serious again. "I've told Weir about the serum still in your system; she's instructed everyone not to ask you any questions, even rhetorical ones, until we're sure it's worn off. It's the serum combined with the questioning that produces the nausea." He held out a small bottle of pills. "However, as it is hard for people to remember not to say phrases like, 'Hi, how's it going?', these Zofran should help."

Sheppard grimaced. "Well, the lady did say that there would be side effects. I just hope they wear off soon."

"You could always stay in your quarters until it's over. I'd be happy to have your meals delivered; just say the word."

"Nah, that won't be necessary. I'll manage." As much as he liked the doctor, he wanted some non-medical people to talk to.

"I expect you to check in daily. When you can tell me a lie, I'll let you go back to duty, but not before."

Despite John's optimism, he almost did confine himself to quarters. After an hour of being literally _forced_ to answer all the well-meaning queries about his health, he fled. While he wanted to avoid any more inadvertent questions, he still craved human contact; so, he did the next best thing – he headed for McKay's lab. The astrophysicist was certain to be immersed in assessing the devices they had retrieved from the planet during his stay in the medical unit, and would either remain completely silent or would regale him with the details of his most recent brilliant discovery. Either way, no questions were involved.

Reaching the lab, he was chagrined to find Kavanagh and Zelenka in hot discussion with Rodney concerning the physics behind the potential function of the device currently sitting on the lab table. It was a sign of his desperation for even _impolite_ human company that he rapped on the doorframe.

"No, I told you before; I don't care _what_ your 'number-crunching' says, there's no way that...Oh, hello John. Come in." McKay glanced up long enough to acknowledge his existence before resuming his argument with Kavanagh. Sheppard smirked and sauntered into the room; this was _just_ what the doctor ordered. These guys would completely ignore his existence until their dispute was resolved, and he would have background human chatter to remind himself that he was still alive and part of the Universe.

"Irritating as it may be, McKay is right." Zelenka pored over the sheets of formulae littering the table. "Despite your figures, there is no way that the instrument can perform in that fashion. Still, I can't find the flaw in your equations." He shook his head in frustration, then picked up the device. "Maybe we missed something here..."

John wandered about the lab, letting the words wash over him meaninglessly. He randomly picked up one item after another, turning each in his hands for a few moments before carefully returning it to its initial position.

McKay found the solid 'wandering spirit' distracting, and was in danger of losing track of the discussion he was embroiled in. He knew better than to ask, 'Can I help you?' or even, 'Would you like a cup of coffee?'. In fact, he suspected that the Major was here in order to avoid simple questions like that, as he was still compelled to answer them in mind-numbing, nausea-inducing detail. Perhaps a statement, then.

Rodney announced, "While you two are debating the math, I'll get us all coffee." He stood and headed for the mess hall. There were fewer things Sheppard could fiddle with while holding a full cup of coffee.

John had wandered over to the lab table by the time McKay had returned. He nodded his thanks as Rodney first handed him a full cup, then passed around the rest. Not much had been resolved in his absence.

"All right then, Zelenka; if you're so _certain _that McKay's right..." Kavanagh, having clearly forgotten the morning staff meeting and the prohibition on questions within Sheppard's hearing, pointed at the papers on the table. "Where are my equations wrong?!"

Rodney's eyes widened. If Sheppard got nauseated at being coerced to answer simple questions like 'How are you?', what would happen with a query that he didn't know the answer to? He was so busy figuring out the fastest way to reach Beckett that he almost missed the answer.

Sheppard, clearly against his will, shouldered between the two scientists and pointed at an equation halfway down the third page. "There."

"Excuse me?" asked Kavanagh. Rodney wondered if the man had _slept_ through the staff meeting that AM.

"You inverted the denominator when you transposed the line above." The Major's teeth were actually gritted closed in his attempt not to speak, while Kavanagh stared at him incredulously.

"And just when did you discover that you were an expert in mathematics?," the pony-tailed scientist inquired sarcastically.

McKay, finally convinced that the man was simply an _idiot_, rounded on him. "OUT!!!! Get OUT of my lab! He'll vomit all over the artifacts if you persist in this stupidity!" He forcibly grabbed the larger man by the shoulders and practically threw him through the door, slamming it shut behind him. Kavanagh, concluding that Rodney was deranged, retreated wordlessly in a snit.

Turning back into the room, McKay found Zelenka staring at the page in question and Sheppard retching in the sink at the far end of the room. After a brief mental debate, McKay decided to wait on summoning Dr. Beckett; the physics, he had to see. As he approached the Czech, he overheard him murmur, "He's _right_; that _was_ the error..."

Sheppard finished vomiting and was rinsing his mouth with water as Rodney examined the document. After looking at the line Zelenka pointed out, he looked disgusted. "Of course; why didn't we see it earlier?"

Sheppard returned at that point. He still appeared quite ill, until he grated out the words, "Third grade."

Rodney blinked at the apparent non sequitur, until he recalled Kavanagh's last heretofore unanswered query. _'What the Heck? He's some sort of expert in mathematics?'_ Well, he wouldn't ask about it right now, but this would certainly need follow-up after Sheppard had recovered from the truth serum. Anyone who could find an error in Kavanagh's work as easily as that...well, those were skills the expedition could _use_. For now, however...

"We'll talk about this some other time." He stated this with quiet assurance.

Zelenka finally abandoned his perusal of the papers and helped Rodney maneuver Sheppard to a chair, all the while grinning like an idiot. "I cannot tell you how thankful I am for your intervention." The Prague native carefully avoided questions as well. "You saved me hours, possibly days, of work, not to mention numerous interactions with...that man." He almost spat the last two words. "I am sorry, however, that it came about in this fashion. We would be happy to go get Beckett, if you'd like." Zelenka phrased his offer as a statement.

Taking a few deep breaths, the pilot shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. Thank you for kicking him out, McKay." He sighed and took a few more shuddering breaths. "I guess I owe you an explanation."

"No, you don't." Zelenka was quick to reassure him.

"However, anyone who can _correct_ Kavanagh's formulae would be of immense usefulness to the base..." McKay was quick to add, wanting to investigate a potential asset.

"Anyone who can read Kavanagh's _handwriting_ would be of immense usefulness to the base!," added Zelenka in muttered agreement.

Rodney and John both snorted at that. Kavanagh was not winning a lot of friends this day. The competition for 'Most Disliked Scientist' would be fierce, but Sheppard suspected that Kavanagh would win.

"I'll take it under advisement," the Major conceded, straightening. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, and probably wouldn't if it weren't for that damn truth serum, but I _was_ considered a math prodigy as a child. However, mathematicians aren't well known as girl-magnets, and equations can't fly at more than 200 MPH. It wasn't the career for me."

"Fair enough." Rodney decided to drop the subject for the time being. "Still, it was nice to see him revealed for the imbecile that he really is. You really did save us a lot of work and time wasted arguing." '_And if we run into a similar situation in the future, I'll just threaten to run the math by Sheppard to check it over. That'll frost Kavanagh's jets!'_

"I'm happy to help, but keep it quiet, OK?" He stood to go, then added as an afterthought, "All this happened because I insisted that _I_ drink that truth-serum. Rule number four, McKay: always accept responsibility for your actions...and their consequences." With that, he strode out of the room.

'_If I killed off Kavanagh, I wonder if I could get away with it? Probably not. Still...' _Smiling at that amusing thought, he turned back to one of the few people he _did_ get along with, and asked, "Let's get back to work, eh?"

"Gladly."

The End 

AN: Were the updates fast enough for you? The idea that Sheppard is good at math comes from the Official Stargate Website, which states, "He presents a tough exterior and hides his mathematical ability. He has a wry sense of humor and likes to pretend he's not as smart as he really is." Kavanagh and Zelenka were both in "38 Minutes", which is easily my favorite episode so far. Also, thanks to my Beta, my husband, who managed to keep McKay's motivations truly consistent with McKay.


End file.
